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15 October 2014
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Charles Cassidy 303rd Bomb Group (Hells Angels) 360th Bmb. Sqdn. Part 2icon for Recommended story

by ateamwar

Contributed by听
ateamwar
People in story:听
Charles Cassidy
Article ID:听
A4916009
Contributed on:听
10 August 2005

This story appears courtesy of and with thanks to Charles Cassidy and Pat and Chuck Macpuzl

Charles served as a B-17 bombardier with the 8th Air Force during WWII. His bomber was severely damaged during a raid on Munich in July of 1944, and forced to land in Switzerland. Here, in his own words, is the story of his few months as an Internee before escaping

When our quarantine was over, we were taken by train through Bern to Davos. Going through Bern, the train skirted the Aare river. The river, on our left, separated the rails from the city, also on our left. I suppose that there was city on our right, but have no recollection. Davos, south of Liechenstein, and not far from the Austrian border, is in the Canton of Graubunden. Ch眉r is the capital of the canton and St. Moritz is only about twenty five miles distant. We were lodged in the Rh盲tia hotel; Shaw and I roomed together and Long and Carlman, in another room. The hotel had a kitchen and dining room; we ate there courtesy of the United States government. We were attended, during the dining session, by a dour headwaiter in formal attire by the name of Otto, and a fifteen or sixteen year old boy named Fritz. The meals were probably as good as any that the Swiss people were eating when war-time scarcities were taken into consideration.

I don't know how many American flyers were in Davos; most where lodged at the Palace hotel, up the street from our lodging. Sometime later we were moved to the Palace, which was directly across the street from the German embassy. Over the front door of the embassy hung the German eagle and swastika. One night, after we had moved to the Palace, the emblem disappeared. Naturally suspicion fell on the Americans so we were confined to quarters until the emblem re-appeared. I never found out who had taken it, but my suspicions were the same as those that the Germans held.

We had our freedom as long as we were present for bed check. Several times, to break the monotony, we hiked through the valley and over the pass to Klosters about three kilometres from the Austrian border to eat at a small cafe. The little restaurant had, inside the premises, a tank with fish swimming about. One could choose the fish for dinner that was desired. Tours to various places in Switzerland were to be had; we were free to go if we would sign a parole. I never went on one because I would not give a parole since I had my mind set on escape at first opportunity. Prior to this we had been told that anyone escaping after giving a parole would be returned to Switzerland by U. S. authorities.

While living at the Palace, on one occasion, the desk clerk, a man much older than we were, but much younger than we are now, called us over to the desk and said that he had something to show us that might interest us. Being young and always curious, we went to the desk. The clerk opened two heavily bound books containing names of those who had stayed there over the years. He pointed to the names of two guests who had roomed at the Palace in the nineteenth century: A. Conan Doyle and Robert Louis Stevenson. At that time there were tuberculosis sanatariums in Davos, so I suppose that is the reason that Stevenson was there because it was this disease that finally caused his death while living in the South Seas. I do not remember the names of other noted persons who may have been in the registry book. Because Davos is a winter resort, with skiers and skaters coming from all over the world, most people living there are conversant in at least two languages. English, German and French are spoken by most people who are in business. In some of the valleys of Graubunden there is another language, now dying out, that is used by a few people: Romansh or Romansch. It is an old language based on Latin, and has been in use there since the Roman Legions were stationed in the area....about the year 15 B. C. I tried to find books about the language, but was unable to; since the language is declining in use, there are probably none.

Davos is divided into two cities: Davos Platz, where we were living, and Davos Dorfli or Dorf. Davos Dorfli, located above where we lived has a beautiful small lake, the Davoser See, on its topside. The lake, with many types of recreational equipment, was in heavy use by the local people while we were there. Our eating habits changed after we arrived in Switzerland. Having been used to plenty of everything, we were now in a countrv that was raising what it was feeding its own population plus very many displaced people from countries over run by war. Thus, our rations decreased. We had plenty to eat, but being bored from not doing very much of anything, we imagined that we were hungry all of the time. However, we did not seem to lose any weight. The food was pretty basic: brown bread, home grown vegetables, Swiss cheese, butter, not too much meat, and ersatz coffee, which was very good. Smokers suffered - at least those used to American tobaccos and cigarets. American tobacco products were difficult to come by, and when available, extremely expensive - but only about one fourth of what they are in our country today. Pipe smokers did not suffer as much because there were some good pipe tobaccos.

The beer was good. There were two types of beer that I was acquainted with, both made by the brewery in Ch眉r: Dunkel, a dark beer, and Hell, a light. I preferred the light colored beer, but only one bottle at a sitting because it was potent. Not knowing much about wines at the time, I cannot judge, but once, when we were at Chaumont, we bought a bottle of white wine for one franc, about twenty five cents U. S. I didn't care for it, and also got a headache from it. I believe that it was sometime in September that Brigadier General Legge, the United States Military Attache in Switzerland, called a convocation of the Davos internees. It was held in the meeting room of the Palace, where at that time, we were living. The general was spit and polish and very dapper in a well tailored uniform, albeit pre-World War II, and with, as I remember, leather leggings or puttees. It was in stark contrast to the manner we were clad. The general addressed the troops, telling us that it was time to leave Switzerland ... on our own. (Breaking internment, if caught by the Swiss, was punished by a stint in one of their detention camps, called hellholes by some who have been in them.) After hearing General Legge, I assumed that there was a tacit agreement between the Swiss government and our country that it was time for us to go. The allied armies had control in much of France, and in the south, where we would go out, there were only scattered pockets of German resistance. I think the drain was becoming too much for Swiss food resources with an ever increasing horde of refugees entering the country---but this is only a surmise on my part. Internees caught in escape attempts still went to prison camps, and Swiss civilians caught assisting them were subject to treason trials.

Sometime in late September, or early October, I began gathering civilian clothing - Extreme care had to be used when doing this. I was able to get a second hand pair of shoes in good condition, but at least one size too small or narrow. I think that most of the clothing that I was able to obtain was second hand, and of rather scruffy appearance. Since the only language that I spoke was English, I was certain that if I went to the train station, guarded by Swiss soldiers, to attempt to buy a train ticket to Lausanne or Geneva, I would be arrested immediately. I do not know how I became acquainted with a Yugoslavian soldier who had been incarcerated in a German prison camp since the Nazis had overrun Yugoslavia. Apparently it had been for some time because there is a photograph of him with us. His name was Sasson or Sasoon; he had escaped from the camp, killing a German guard while doing so. (I have wondered how many of his countrymen, prisoners, were shot by the Nazis following his escape. The Germans were extremely brutal to the prisoners of Slavic extraction, murdering many of them).

Escapees from prisoner of war camps had free rein to come and go anywhere in Switzerland and as Sasson had a girl friend in Lausanne, he made frequent trips there. He could speak German and his own language(s), but no English. Arrangements, apparently through a middleman, were made for him to purchase my tickets for me, as he was going to go to Lausanne again. He would also be my guide. I do not recall, but we must have had some direction, from above, on what to do and where to go, and Sasson had this information as well as I. (Another interjection: Prior to going overseas, I had allotted all but $50 of each month's wages to the bank at home, so while I was overseas I received $50 monthly, even while in Switzerland. This was 200 francs Swiss money.) In the evening of the day we left Davos, tickets in hand, we waited in the shadows of the train station as the guards checked the papers of those boarding the train. Since the coach did not have steps that turned up after passengers were on, we waited until the train began to move before darting out of the background and boarding. The Swiss soldier reached for and grabbed my sleeve, but I jerked loose. The train was moving and we were on. I was certain that the guard was a summer soldier and would not report the incident, thereby keeping himself out of hot water. (Swiss men who are physically able, between the ages of nineteen and fifty-nine(?), must spend so much time each summer in military training. I am not certain of the age figures, thus the question mark, nor do I remember how long the training period is. Because of this, Switzerland has a large standing army). Sasson, with me trailing, picked a small compartment, with a table, in the middle of the coach. Nothing eventful happened until we arrived in Zurich. There, military police boarded the train and began to check papers, of which I had none. We could hear them coming up the aisle, demanding papers at each compartment. I laid my head and arms on the table and pretended to be asleep. What my guide told them when they stopped at our compartment, I do not know, but after checking Sasson's papers, they moved on.

Continued.....
'This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by 大象传媒 Radio Merseyside鈥檚 People鈥檚 War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his / her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

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